Light in the Shadows
by writtenwordsaremagic
Summary: Setting is during the witch hysteria that broke out over Salem, Massachusetts in the late 1600s.From Chapter 22: Under the Hanging Tree. Most of it is similiar to what Ann Rinaldi wrote mainly to say I shortened her chapter with the same train of conversa
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **This is a FanFiction of _A Break With Charity_ by Ann Rinaldi. If you find this story interesting, then I would suggest you go straight to the library and check out her book. Sure it's historical fiction, but let me warn you, the character development and human doings in this book would astound even the people who hate history. 100 serious!

Setting is during the witch hysteria that broke out over Salem, Massachusetts in the late 1600s.  
From Chapter 22: Under the Hanging Tree. Most of it is similiar to what Ann Rinaldi wrote (mainly to say I shortened her chapter with the same train of conversations..just in shorter terms (my words) and some changes), but in Chapter Four, I did something different.

**Light in the Shadows**

**Chapter One**

Every creepy sound that rose to my ears asked me why I could ever be so stupid enough to come to this godforsaken place. Every groan of the old tree I leaned against sent my mind reeling back to that cloudless day when Rebecca Nurse and Bridget Bishop swung from this same tree.

I drew my knees into my chest, shrinking myself into as small a ball as I could possibly manage. I made nary a sound in this process. Eyes were staring at me from the woods. They glowed in the dark. Any other day, my mind would have registered these eyes as deer eyes, but today my mind thought otherwise. They were the evil eye.

I crawled deeper inside myself, searching for pleasant memories that would drive the pain away. There were none. Ever since the beginning of the circle of girls, I knew there was something inescapably wrong with them. Remembering now how I always wished to join that circle, I now shiver. It is because of that circle of girls that our Salem Village comes to a cease. Where before each day draws on long and boring, now crowds gather at Ingersoll's Tavern to hear news of the next witch. Each day, the girls are brought here to perform their acts. And I know they are only acts.

I groan now when the tantalizing breeze tugs a strand of my hair free from its bondage. Where is Johnathan? He was late. Oh. If he isn't coming in one more minute I am going to march straight out of this place. I am going to march through the dirt road I have come through, and I will go straight home where Joseph and Elizabeth Putnam offered me shelter during this time of chaos.

See, my family all fled when Ann Putnam accused my mother of being a witch. She didn't stop there. She went on to my father, and Mary, who is just about to marry Thomas Hutchinson, escaped with mother and father fearing for her arrest. But I feared no one. I stayed.   
Inside, I felt that all this was my fault. The witch trial, I mean. How? I don't know. But I do know that I am part of it. A play doesn't work if only the main characters rattle along on the stage. All players must cooperate. I am a player. …And I'm afraid. Dead scared.

The dark is drawing closer now, and more owls coo in the distance. They screech "Who? Who?" I shiver. It were almost as if they were convicting the next witches. "Who? Who? Who?" Who would be next? Who else would die before this witch hysteria is over? Who? I stifled a sob when no other sound met me other than my own labored breathing. Where is Johnathan?! I clenched and unclenched my dress, crumpling the fabric. But for all my nervousness, Johnathan didn't come.

Just then, the glorifying sound of carriage wheels pounded into the dirt road accompanied by the braying of mules. My heart skipped a beat. Johnathan. I stood up and peered into the darkness. From the scant light I had, I saw a bobbing light in the distance. Yes, there he was. Sitting there in the front of the carriage. I ran down the hill, running until I could run no more. There I waited for Johnathan.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two **

Johnathan alighted from the carriage as nimble as any young kitten and helped another figure down.

"Susanna?" He held a lantern that sent friendly beams to conquer the evil and darkness. Above it all, I saw Johnathan's amiable face. "Susanna, where are you?" he asked again. The lantern swung in another direction, leaving darkness to crowd in on me.

"Oh, Johnathan," I cried, "I'm here." His lantern once again swerved towards me. In two bounds, I was enfolded in his arms, sobbing into his shirt. I didn't care then if I seemed too forward or bold. I was so scared. "Oh, I was so scared, Johnathan," I confessed. I closed my eyes and listened to his pounding heart. His warmth assuaged my worst fears. "I fancied those deer eyes across the road was the dark spirits come to get me. I thought you weren't coming."

"I won't put it against you. 'Tis a night full of shadows and ethereal sounds, but if I may have my say, I'd do anything to meet such a fine young man. I'd fight my way through a thunderstorm just to see him," a voice said.

I looked up long enough to see a hooded creature staring at me. She came up by Johnathan's shoulder and stroked my arm in a maternal manner.

"Susanna, I would like to introduce you to Mary Bradbury," Johnathan said. He pulled me away from him until he held me at an arm's length away. "Your witch on the windlass."  
Mary Bradbury pushed back her hood, and smiled at me. The corners of her eyes crinkled when she complimented Johnathan. "Ah Johnathan my dear. I see ye have chosen well." She looked me up and down.

As if we were on a picnic, Johnathan led us all to the hanging tree. We sat there in a circle where the light of the lantern shone in the center. It gave enough light for me to see every inch of Mary Bradbury's face.

"Hello, Susanna English." Her smile was warm and without deceit; her gaze was without artifice just like Johnathan had said. I found a smile tugging on my lips. This woman's smile was infectious. But…at that moment, I finally found myself doubting the odds people had against her. Surely this old woman would not be a witch. I doubted it…but still the questions were still unanswered on my lips.

She answered the question for me. "Johnathan told me how Sam Endicott put the notion into your head about me being a witch, eh? That old goat. If he did not imbibe in so much rum, he'd never see any such witches on his windlass." Her infectious smile broadened. "I met your parent's in Arnold's Jail. Your dear mother gave me such comfort there. Do ye not think she didn't come to hear of the accusations against me? That I was accused of besetting pirates upon the _William and Susanna_?"

"She knew this?"

"Aye." Mary Bradbury nodded solemnly. "She knew this, but did she pay attention? No. She treated me just as she treated any other prison mate."

"But it was said you would destroy Amiable Tiger as soon as it reached harbor," I protested. "They said you knew already William was on board _Amiable Tiger_ and you were to entice him…" I trailed off, hoping I hadn't said too much to infuriate this woman…or witch. My doubts came back about her purity.

She laughed a high tinkling sound, like that of a bell's. "I've known your brother ever since he was a small lad. Why would I want to destroy him? And how would an old creature like me know his whereabouts?"

"You knew William?"

"Yes," she affirmed. "I've had dealings with your father way back before when you were a tyke."

I found myself warming to her, but said nothing.

"Do ye think me a witch now?" she queried. Her voice was light, but in her eyes I perused a deep, great sadness then.

I said nothing.

"Oh darling." Her hand wormed its way into mine. "I'd tell ye one thing. It was always my secret desire to go out to sea."

I looked up at her. She was convicting herself.

"But do ye think I am the witch on the windlass of Sam Endicott's ship? Nay, my dear. If I were to choose where I could go, I'd choose the crow's nest. I'd watch over the sea and feel the spray bounce against my old curls. If I were indeed that witch Sam Endicott said, he'd find me on the crow's nest."

I smiled for her enthusiasm and vigor evoked such a response.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"Windlass, bah, I say!" Mary Bradbury winked at me. "Do ye, child, ever want to sail across the Atlantic?"

"Yes." She had touched my innermost wish, and I found myself confiding in her. "I think one day, I'm going to ask William if I can sail with him abroad his ship."

"Go, dear child." She gave my hand a squeeze. "And while ye there, climb the crow's nest for me, will ye? Climb the crow's nest, and feel the salt spray…and with your young voice scream into the wind." She extended her arms out. It was like she were already there.

"We should show Susanna the petition," Johnathan said.

"No, not yet, lad." She leaned in closer to me. "Believe ye me child. There are no such things as witches." She tapped her mind. "Witches are the evil thoughts lurking in our human minds. Witches are the thoughts Satan sends to us to hamper our purity and spiritual contact with the Almighty God.

"Do ye believe me to be a witch now?" She spread out her arms wide as if daring me to convict her. "I'm only an old woman sprung from prison by a group of honest friends. Were I a witch, couldn't I escape from prison lock or no lock?" Her eyes twinkled as she talked. "Remember, Susanna English, there are no such things as witches."

"Mary, we should leave now." Johnathan consulted the darkening sky. "We have a meeting with our friends. The petition shall convince Susanna."

"Lad, if such were so, ye would have shown it to Susanna before. No, she wants to behold this delicate, old woman herself. She wants to touch me, to feel me. What does a petition do? If I were a witch, I could cause her to believe in illusions. Come now child." She extended an arm. "Pinch me and decide for yourself whether I am measly old woman or a witch everyone should fear."

I didn't pinch her. My doubts were somehow appeased.

Mary Bradbury thrust it towards me. "Come touch me." I touched her. "Does my touch afflict ye?"

"No," I whispered. Her arm was as warm as my own. But then all witches could throw a shroud over my head. I could be fooled. "But—"

Johnathan held up a hand. "'Tis late now. We should leave, Mary." He shot me a glance that said, "Stay quiet." But Mary Bradbury wouldn't hear of it. "Now, now, Susanna is still not convinced. I can't save my own hide and not save this dear girl's." She held out her arms. "Come to me," she said. I followed her orders, not because of her power as a witch, but because (as strange as it may sound) I wanted to.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"Now show her the petition, Johnathan." Mary Bradbury pulled away from me. She wiped invisible tears from her eyes.

Johnathan unrolled a scroll of paper. "Ninety-three people signed this paper declaring that Mary Bradbury was a stout woman of Christ and a loyal wife of Thomas Bradbury, honestly raising eleven children."

I looked at the sheet. Names were scrawled in every corner and every size. They filled all the columns save for one line at the bottom. "Johnathan do you have a bottle of ink and a quill?" I asked.

"Susanna," he warned, "we must leave."

"No." Mary Bradbury raised a warning hand. "Let us hear what she has to do."

Johnathan handed me a quill and a half-used bottle of black ink. I dipped the quill in, then by the light the lantern threw onto the paper, I signed my own name in my messy scrawl: _Susanna English_. It was squat and short and ill shaped compared to the fancy flourishes of full-grown adults, but I felt good, I felt proud. I stopped the bottle and handed the quill back to Johnathan. "There," I said, rolling up the scroll. My cheeks were flecked with tears of gratitude. I had truly seen the light in the shadows.

Handing the parchment back to Johnathan, I welcomed the fierce hug Mary Bradbury bestowed me with. "Oh, child," she cried, patting my back. "You have seen…"

"No," I said, tears all the while raining down in rivulets, "you must forgive me."

Her hands gripped my arm in forgiveness and joy. "We have another one in our midst." She kissed me, a gentle, leathery kiss on my cheek. Her lips were firm, gentle, pure. "Child, ye do remember." Johnathan was helping her into the cart now. "The crow's nest, all right? When your brother takes ye to sea, don't ye forget the crow's nest." Her hand rested one more time on me. "Would ye do it for me?"

"I promise," I whispered.

"I know ye would." Mary Bradbury's eyes sparkled. "Ye will do it, but not for me. Ye will do it because…" The cart jolted off with an awakening start and her words faded into the night. I waved at their retreating backs. I waved until my arms were sour with waving.

And it was only years after that her words finally came back into mind. "Ye will do it because…" I was standing on he crow's nest then, Johnathan on deck below with our child on his shoulders. I did it; I climbed onto the crow's nest abroad the _William and Susanna_. And Tibuta predicted right. William came home after something tragic occurred, but that is where the prophecy ends. Happiness replaced tragedy after the witch hysteria ended.

Standing here in the crow's nest now, I recollect all Johnathan and I had gone through: tragedies and happiness both. I stand here now as a grown woman, knowing that in truth, it was the tragedies that truly made our shells crusty hard. Through this hysteria we have battled, and now, through another hysteria we will battle again. But I know this: There will always be one telltale light in the shadows.


End file.
